


KAGTSRTHR

by reyofdarkness (mitslits)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, and also Armageddon, exasperated neighbors, kylo is obssessed with NASA, pretty much just space in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/reyofdarkness
Summary: The title: Kick ass, go to space, represent the human race.Three things that Kylo Ren has always, always wanted to do. So when he learned that NASA was shutting down their space program, he moved out of the city and into the suburbs where he could actually see the stars. Armageddon becomes his biggest inspiration. Maybe someday he too will be called to save the earth from certain destruction from an asteroid. As such, he goes stargazing every night and listens to I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing on repeat.Rey really, really just wants to sleep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt challenge in the writing den
> 
> enjoy this utter ridiculousness

“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?” Rey’s voice is a growl, low and the kind of irritated that only a person wrenched from a deep sleep can be. Her eyes, rimmed in purple-black and edging on bloodshot, burn with anger. Her hands are folded so tightly over her chest, one could imagine she’s trying to break her own ribs. Even in pink plaid pajamas, she exudes menace.

The object of her ire? He stands in his own backyard with his eye pressed to a telescope, dressed in sweats and a tank-top as dark as the surrounding night. Pale skin limned in starlight, black hair turned silver.

At any other time, he could almost be handsome. At this moment, Rey is not that charitable. Her scowl deepens as he stays as he is, bent over his telescope and seemingly ignoring her. “Hey!” she says, louder this time. “Turn that fucking thing off!”

Startled, he finally pulls his face from the lens. He blinks as he catches sight of her, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, and then he reaches over to turn off his boombox. Silence, blessed silence, settles between them. “Sorry,” he says, a touch sheepish. “What?”

Rey glares at him over the low fence separating their two houses. If it wasn’t there, she might have stomped over and kicked that damn telescope to pieces. Or smashed the boombox on the ground. She might just climb on over and do that anyways. “Are you kidding me? It’s three in the morning,” she seethes, gesturing to his setup.

Kylo follows the sweep of her hand. It encompasses the telescope, the small table supporting his boombox, and, of course, him. “Oh, come on,” he says. “The music wasn’t that loud.”

“Three in the morning,” Rey repeats. She grinds her teeth. “What the hell are you even doing, standing out here and blaring your dumb music at, I say again, three in the morning?”

“Hey,” Kylo says, setting his hand on the boombox protectively. “Aerosmith is _not_ ‘dumb music.’”

Every fiber of Rey’s being yearns to reach over the fence, snatch the radio right out from under him, and hurl it into the street where it will hopefully be hit by a merciless, 40-ton semi. That, she thinks, would turn this nightmare into a dream. “That doesn’t answer my question,” she points out.

Still looking sheepish, Kylo rubs the back of his neck. “So, funny story…”

Rey takes a deep, deep breath through her nose. She’s been working on this, getting her anger under control. She’d never been the kind to get physically upset, per se, but this guy. This Kylo Ren. He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago, and he’s already burrowed so far under her skin, he could be a scarab beetle.

Every night, he’s set up that damn telescope and that damn boombox and blasted that same damn song, I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing. Aerosmith, apparently. Normally, Rey can just ignore it. She has earplugs, she has extra pillows, she has a bone-deep, burning love for sleep. But something about tonight had made her snap. Suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore, knowing he was out there in his yard, staring up at the stars, probably singing along to lyrics she had accidentally memorized.

 _I don’t wanna close my eyes_ _  
_ _I don’t wanna fall asleep_

Lines Kylo Ren had apparently taken to heart because, honestly, when did the man rest if he was out here all the time? “I’m sure it’s hilarious,” she grits through her teeth. “Let’s hear it then.”

“They shut down NASA,” Kylo says. And then he goes silent. As if that explains everything. Or anything.

Rey stands for a minute, blinking. It’s chilly, she suddenly realizes. Not cold, but cool enough to raise goosebumps on her arms. The grass is damp. She’s out here in bare feet, and there are probably ants. Given the way things have gone, she’s probably standing on an ant hill. “They shut down NASA,” she repeats slowly, and, oh god, she can hear the tears in her voice. They’re tears of frustrated anger, not sadness, but they still seem like weakness. With an effort, she clears her throat. “Fuck you.” She’s going to sleep, and if she hears that song start up again, she will grab the baseball bat by her bed and beat the crap out of that wretched boombox. “And fuck NASA.”

Ignoring Kylo’s outraged spluttering, she stalks back into her house.

-

Morning comes, and with it, the realization that she had been more than a little rude to her neighbor the night before. In her defense, he’d deserved it. Honestly, what kind of person made a habit of stargazing with a soundtrack in the middle of suburbia? Probably the kind without a stable job and way too much time on their hands.

At least, that’s what Rey tells herself as she turns on her Keurig. Caffeine is going to make everything better. Less muddled. Less bleary. Less headachey. She can feel one starting up, pounding at the walls of her temples. It’s real persistent, too, a dogged knock, knock, knock. It takes her a minute or two to realize that that’s not in her head -- someone is actually knocking on her door.

Well, isn’t this just perfect. She’s still in her pajamas, hair unbrushed, and there’s not a trace of makeup on her, not even the previous day’s smeared remnants. Quickly, she gathers her hair into a ponytail and straightens her rumpled collar. Presentable? Not really, but it will have to do. She hurries to the door and flings it open to find a hulking mass of man.

Kylo Ren. On her porch. He’s in a suit, too, because why shouldn’t he look like a million bucks when Rey is in such disarray? (It’s not three in the morning anymore; she’s allowed to find him handsome now.)

Rey purses her lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but she puts up a hand to forestall him. “I can’t talk to you until I’ve had some coffee.” She leaves the door open as she disappears back into the kitchen and pulls out a mug. She can hear him shuffling around out there and hopes he feels as uncomfortable as she does.

It’s become very clear to her in this moment that she’s really only interacted with him twice: the night before, when she’d said fuck him, and now. Both times in her pajamas. Pajamas that don’t include a bra. She should put on a bra. Instead, she puts coffee into a mug and shuffles back into the doorway, sipping loudly. Only when she’s taken a good, long pull does she lower the mug and look up at Kylo. “Okay. Now you can talk.”

“So, the NASA thing,” he says, shifting a bit. He puts his hands in his pockets. Takes them back out again. Shoves one in and leaves the other hanging. “I feel like I should explain.”

Rey takes another sip of her coffee. “I also feel like you should explain,” she says, one eyebrow arched.

Kylo has to tug his hand back out of his pocket to check his watch. “Sorry,” he says. “Can’t be late for work. But I have, like, ten minutes. Anyways.” He runs a hand through his hair, and Rey’s eyes are drawn to it.

It looks like movie-star hair. Like hair that should be slapped up on a larger-than-life poster in Times Square. Like hair that she should be reaching up and running her fingers through to see if it’s as soft as it seems. She tightens her grip on her coffee mug to keep her hands right where they are. He’s the weird neighbor, not her.

“I’ve always wanted to do three things,” Kylo says, and Rey forces herself to pay attention. “One,” and he holds up one finger, “kick ass. Two,” a second finger, “go to space. And three,” a third and final finger, “represent the human race.”

Rey blinks. She blinks again. She could swear this is an adult man standing in front of her (given some of the thoughts she’s had about him in her lonelier moments, she certainly hopes he’s an adult), but he’s talking like an immature child. “...what?” she asks.

“An astronaut,” Kylo clarifies. “I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut. But then they shut NASA down.” He almost seems to deflate as he says it, his shoulders slumping, his eyes downcast, his hand curling into a fist.

Rey can’t help it; she feels a twinge of pity. Childhood dreams are precious things, and it hurts when they’re crushed. She gets that. That doesn’t mean she’s forgiven him for keeping her up. “That sucks,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for keeping me up. Which, by the way, you still haven’t really explained the whole skulking around your yard at night thing. Or the music.”

Kylo glances down at his watch again and eases back on his heels. “Right, okay, the music. The song. I’m just trying to capture the spirit of _Armageddon._ You’ve seen that movie _,_ right?”

Rey has never seen _Armageddon._ “I’ve never seen _Armageddon._ ”

Kylo abruptly stops rocking. “What? Never? The Michael Bay one, with Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck, you’ve never seen it? Like, not even once?”

“Not even once,” Rey confirms. She crinkles her nose. “It doesn’t sound very good.” She’s not very into movies, but even she knows that Michael Bay is mostly just known for explosions and ruining _Transformers._ And isn’t Ben Affleck Batman? What is Batman doing with Bruce Willis?

Kylo makes that same indignant spluttering sound he’d made the night before. “You can’t say it’s not good if you’ve never even seen it!” Another check of the watch, and that’s really starting to irritate Rey. It makes it seem like he only wants to get away from her. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

The sudden shift in conversation is almost enough to give Rey whiplash. “No,” she says. “I don’t have any plans. Why are you asking?” She has more questions, a lot more. But she swallows them down with another mouthful of coffee because if she starts, he’s definitely going to be late for work.

“You should come over tonight and watch it with me,” he says.

Okay, so the sip of coffee was a mistake. She nearly spits it all over his nice-looking suit. With an effort, she chokes it down and has to spend a few minutes coughing before she can look at him again. “What?”

Kylo is already backing away, tapping the face of his watch. “I have to go. Work. But come over, though, I’m serious. The movie will explain everything, and I don’t want to spoil it.” He lingers on the last porch step, waiting for her reply.

“I…” She… doesn’t know what possesses her, but she finds herself saying, “I’ll come over.”

Kylo flashes her a thumbs-up and then he’s gone, dashing back to his own driveway and getting into his car.

Rey stays where she is, the door open, one shoulder propping her up against the doorframe. What’s left of her coffee is rapidly cooling inside her mug. It gets cooler as she stands there, contemplating what she’s done. She had sort of been expecting an apology. She doesn’t know why; he’s never acted guilty in the least, and she’s sure their little tiff from last night will do nothing to change that. But what she had gotten was so far from an apology, it might as well be Pluto.

Kylo Ren inviting her over to his house to watch a movie that is supposedly going to explain everything about his strange behavior. Worse, Rey saying yes to said invitation. This had better be one hell of a film.

She raises the mug back to her lips and downs the rest of her coffee. “Well,” she mutters to herself as she retreats back into the house, “that could have gone better.”   


	2. Chapter 2

Rey spends most of the day successfully not thinking about Kylo, or  _ Armageddon,  _ or Aerosmith. She goes into a cleaning frenzy because, honestly, her place could use it. She has work waiting for her, essays and homework and all that good stuff, but she’s ignoring that too. She sweeps the floors, washes them, does the dishes, scrubs the kitchen until it sparkles. And when she runs out of normal chores, she moves onto the minutiae, the stuff her parents always nag her about doing when they come to visit. 

She’s just finished wiping down the baseboards and has moved on to dusting the blinds when she spots Kylo’s car trundling down the street and into his drive. All the thoughts she’s been avoiding all day come flooding in. Bruce Willis. Telescopes. Kylo, wildly out of place on her porch. 

Then, there he is again, knocking. Her heart lurches strangely in her chest at the sound, which doesn’t make any sense because usually that only happens when she’s nervous. She has no reason to be nervous. She doesn’t actually care what Kylo thinks of her, so this will be a stress-free interaction. For sure.  

Rey abandons her rag and opens the door. “Hey,” she says. He’s still in that suit, but at least she’s not in her pajamas anymore. She’d traded them in for a white shirt that’s only slightly wrinkled and cut-offs that end halfway up her thighs. Oh, and she put on a bra for good measure. 

“Hey,” he says back. “I have to clean up a bit around the house and find the movie, but if you wanted to come over in like an hour? Would that work?”

Rey almost says yes right off the bat, but last time she did that, she created this situation. So she swallows down her acquiescence. Forces herself to think for a second. “Maybe a bit later,” she says. “I should probably eat something first.” 

“Or,” Kylo says with a lazy shrug, “we could order a pizza. I have beer too. I promise, pizza and beer will make everything better. Except, wait, can you drink? I don’t know how old you are.” He frowns at that, and Rey has to suppress a smirk. Maybe he’s been having fantasies too. 

She decides to test that theory. “I can’t drink yet,” she says with an exaggerated pout. “Not old enough.” She’s pretty sure he goes a shade or two paler, and her smirk does break out this time. “But I’ve only got a couple years to go. 19.”  

“Oh.” That’s definitely relief. Rey’s sure of it. “Okay. Just pizza, then.” 

Rey could go for some pizza. Even if she has to endure Kylo’s company to get it.

Kylo lingers for a moment or two longer, oscillating uncertainly. “So… see you in an hour?” 

“Sounds good.” Rey waits until he’s turned around before closing the door in his face and then slumps back against it, staring at her sparkling clean living room. If she had known she could get free pizza out of confronting Kylo about his nocturnal habits, she would have stomped out there ages ago. Maybe she can wriggle a beer out of him, too. It’s not like she’s never drank before. 

The next hour is agonizing. There’s no cleaning left, so Rey mostly just sits around and waits. I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing plays on repeat in her head, and she hates it. She’s going to have to hear it again in the movie, she assumes, and she hates that too. This is her hell.   

Finally, however, roughly sixty minutes ticks by and she can justify heading over to Kylo’s place. She knocks on the door, glancing around. His porch is disappointingly normal. There’s a half-dead potted plant in one corner and a softly tinkling windchime shaped like a bird but otherwise, no sign of the bizarre space-maniac that lives inside. 

Kylo opens the door wearing significantly more casual clothes than he had. He’s back in sweats and a wife-beater, and Rey is going to pretend she can’t see abs pressed against the thin fabric. 

“So, are we doing this or what?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. She hasn’t actually been waiting that long, but she doesn’t want him to think she’s enjoying any of this.

Kylo opens the door further and gestures for her to come in. “We’re doing this. What do you like on your pizza?” 

“Everything,” Rey says with no hesitation. She’s far from picky, and hey, it’s free. Might as well go all out. “Literally whatever you put on that pizza, I will eat it.” 

One of Kylo’s eyebrows twitches upwards. “Even pineapple?” he asks. 

Amateur. Fool. He’s clearly never seen Rey hungry. “Even pineapple,” she says. 

“But  _ I’m  _ the weird one,” Kylo mutters as Rey brushes past him. 

Rey flashes him a wicked grin over her shoulder and moves further into the house. It, too, is surprisingly normal. Honestly, it just looks like some regular businessman lives there, and she remembers that he was wearing a suit when he came over that morning. It makes her feel a little strange, knowing that she’s maybe the only person on earth who knows about the weird space obsession he harbors. She steals a glance at him as he’s heading for the landline (he has a landline; he must be a real adult). He  _ does  _ look pretty normal. 

“Make yourself at home,” he says, waving one hand toward the living room. The other is busy picking up the phone and dialing the pizza place. “I’ll be there in a second.” 

The first thing Rey notices is that his carpet is amazing, much better than the grimy, worn down stuff in her own place. It’s pristine, and her feet sink into it so deep her toes disappear after she kicks off her shoes. Oh, yeah. She could sleep on this carpet. There’s a perfectly good couch in front of the television, but she chooses to drop down on the ground in front of it, reveling in the plushness of the carpet. 

True to his word, Kylo appears a couple of minutes later. He doesn’t comment on the fact that she’s sitting on the floor, but that could be because he’s too busy wrestling with an armful of fabric. “Want one?” he asks, just as one bundle tumbles to the ground. 

Rey eyes the mysterious pile of cloth. “Is that a… cape?” It looks like a blanket but there’s a couple long tubes attached that Rey can only imagine are used for tying it around one’s neck. Or something. 

Kylo snorts and leans down to scoop it up. “Of course not. What grown man owns a cape? No, this is a Snuggie.” He holds it up to show its full expanse, and suddenly, Rey can see that those tubes are arm holes. 

Rey would not be caught dead in a Snuggie. “You have more than one,” she says, completely deadpan, her eyes fixed on his arms; a Snuggie is draped over each. 

Shrugging, Kylo sets one off to the side and slips into the other. “I watch too many infomercials, maybe.” He picks up the remote and flops down onto the couch. Only then does he seem to notice she’s not up there too. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. You know that, right?” 

“I do.” Rey leans back against the cushions. “I’m fine where I am.” 

“Okay,” Kylo says, sounding a bit dubious. He doesn’t press it, though, just powers up the T.V. Immediately, the start menu for  _ Armageddon  _ comes up. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Rey whispers under her breath. 

Kylo must hear her because he says, “In my defense, I was planning on watching this tonight anyways.” 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make that any less pathetic.”  

Kylo mock-pouts, but that didn’t stop him from hitting play. “Prepare for greatness,” he says as the movie fades in. 

Roughly two hours and thirty-three minutes later, Rey sits staring at the screen, mouth slightly agape. “How can you watch that garbage?” she finally asks, craning her head around to gape at him. “Like, more than once? That was… agonizing.”  

“Don’t,” Kylo says quickly. 

“Don’t what?” Rey asks. 

“Insult one of greatest movies of all time,” Kylo says, sitting up and pushing back the sleeves of his Snuggie. He has to swoop forward to catch the pizza box from sliding off the couch. The delivery man had looked Kylo’s Snuggie-clad body up and down with a suppressed sneer, and Rey had barely been able to bite back a laugh. 

Rey takes the pizza box from him and fishes out a pineapple-laden piece. “There’s no way that is one of the greatest movies of all time,” she says, taking a huge bite. 

Kylo wrinkles his nose. “Did we not see the same thing just now?” 

Rey swallows. “You mean some bald guy and a team of obsolete actors blowing up a space rock?”

“A  _ hero  _ sacrificing himself to save the entire planet,” Kylo corrects. He untangles himself from the Snuggie, gets to his feet and stretches, arms reaching for the ceiling. 

Rey averts her eyes from the small strip of stomach he exposes, the trail of dark hair that should in no way be attractive. “While you’re up,” she says, eyes fixed on the T.V., “you should get me a beer.” 

Scoffing, Kylo starts tidying up, putting the pizza box on the coffee table and folding the Snuggie. “You’re too young to drink.” 

“Hasn’t stopped me before.” Rey finishes the last of her pizza and stretches out on the floor, smiling beatifically up at him. “Pretty please? You owe me after making me sit through that whole thing.” 

Kylo blinks down at her for a long minute, and she wriggles a bit, just enough to ruck her shirt up ever so slightly and reveal her own flash of skin. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and turns abruptly on his heel. “Two beers, coming right up.” 

Rey hums in satisfaction at having gotten her way, digs her toes into the carpet, and stares up at the ceiling. And finds herself humming Aerosmith. Okay, so maybe the movie hadn’t been as bad as she’d said it was, but that song is still on her shit list. 

Beers in hand, Kylo returns and flops back onto the couch. He pops the top on both and hands one over to Rey. 

Rey raises the bottle to her mouth before -- “We should make this a contest.” 

Kylo pauses, his own halfway to his lips. “What?” 

“See who can drink it faster,” she says. She’s drank a couple people under the table before; not that this has anything to do with impressing Kylo. She has no reason to impress him. She just wants to get drunk faster so she can forget how weird it is that she’s in his house in the first place. 

Kylo props his bottle on his knee. “Rey. I’m at least six inches taller than you and twice as big. I also have almost a decade more drinking experience. There is objectively no way you can out-chug me.” 

Eyes glittering, Rey tilts her bottle at him. “That sounds like a challenge.” She arches her eyebrows. “Or are you worried that I  _ am  _ going to out-chug you?” 

“Of course not,” Kylo scoffs. “I just don’t want to have to carry you home.” 

Rey rolls her eyes. “It’s one beer, Kylo. I’m not going to get shit-faced from one beer. But if you’re too chicken…” She shrugs one shoulder and makes to return the bottle to her lips. 

“Fine,” Kylo says, just as Rey starts to take a sip. “One beer. That’s it. And if I have to carry you home, I’m never inviting you over again no matter which classics you haven’t seen.” 

Rey laughs. “I think I can deal with that.” Her grin turns wicked, and she waggles her eyebrows. “If you want to make this interesting, we can turn this into bet.” 

Silence. Kylo looks from her to the beer in her hand to the beer in his hand back to her. “Do you have a death wish or something?” 

“Oh, come on,” Rey says, reaching out to nudge his leg with her foot. “I’m young. I’m  _ supposed  _ to be making irresponsible life choices. If I don’t do them now, when am I ever going to have the chance? What’s life without a few regrets?” She leans forward a bit until she can rest her chin on his knee and glance up at him with earnest eyes. She knows exactly how she looks staring up at him like that, lips pursed in a pretty pout. 

With a huff, Kylo shakes his head and moves his knee out from under her. “How much are we betting?” 

Rey tugs her wallet out of her pocket and rifles through her billfold. “I’ve only got twenty bucks. So how about twenty bucks?” 

“Twenty bucks,” Kylo confirms. He tugs out his own wallet and sets a crumpled bill on the coffee table. 

Rey slaps hers down beside it and tightens her grip on the bottle. “On the count of three,” she says. “One. Two. Three!” She tilts the bottle back, starts chugging -- and is hit with a wave of immediate regret. Beer is awful. Beer is not good. How could she have forgotten how bad beer tastes? But she’s committed now, so she screws up her eyes and gulps frantically. She slams her bottle down a half second before Kylo does. 

Kylo’s jaw drops open a bit, and he glances at her in stark disbelief. “What the fuck. You cheated.”  

“Did-” Rey has to pause and swallow what would surely be an unflattering belch. “Did not.” She swipes the money off the table and stuffs it into her wallet, grinning over at him. “Thank you for the free money.” She allows herself to fall back to the carpet and lets out a long sigh. 

Kylo slumps against the couch and props his feet up on the coffee table so the shadow of his legs spills across Rey’s stomach. 

She smooths her hand over the dark lines as if they were something real and glances up at him. “You’re a liar,” she says abruptly.

Startled, Kylo shifts his legs apart so he can glance down at her through them. “Excuse me?” 

“You said,” and Rey props herself up on her elbows so she can glare at him properly, “that watching that movie would explain everything. Well, I’ve seen it, and I’m still confused.” 

“Oh.” Kylo laughs lightly and draws his legs back onto the couch, tucking them under the discarded Snuggies. “Like I said, they shut down NASA. So the only way I could ever be an astronaut is if something like that happened.” And here he gestured to the T.V. “If it does, I’m going to be ready.” 

Rey stares at him for a long minute. “Let me get this straight. Your plan is to spend your nights looking for an asteroid hurtling toward the planet and become a part of the crew that goes up into space to bomb the shit out of it.” 

A single nod. “Correct.” 

Carefully balancing on one elbow, Rey puts a finger to her chin, depending to be deep in thought. “I get it, I get it. Except there’s one massive flaw in your plan,” she points out. 

Kylo’s head lolls backwards and he glances at her from under his lashes. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

“You’re not an oil driller either. So even if the world did need an oil drilling team to save it, you wouldn’t qualify.” Rey goes back to two elbows then gives up on balancing altogether and sprawls back on the floor. 

Kylo doesn’t look at all put out. “Yeah, but I can become an oil driller. If duty calls.” 

Rey snorts. “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”  _ Ridiculously cute,  _ her brain unhelpfully supplies. She tells her inner voice to shut up. It’s only because she slammed down a beer and he seduced her with pizza. That’s a winning combination, almost enough to make her forget the Snuggies and stargazing.  

“Says the woman who refused a Snuggie,” Kylo says. “The pinnacle of both practicality and comfort.” 

He is not helping his case. “I have an actual sense of fashion, sue me.” She stares up at the ceiling again, loath to get up. But she should. She really should. She’s spent enough time here already. “I should go,” she sighs and starts climbing to her feet. 

Kylo stands with her, looking like he’s ready to give her a hand should she come across as unsteady. 

To Rey’s satisfaction, though, she’s as solid as a rock, doesn’t even sway as she balances on one leg to put on her shoes. Even so, his presence is a warm beacon behind her as she heads for the door, and she bites her lip to hide a smile. He really is cute. In an immature, totally-not-her-type kind of way. She pauses in the doorway, startled to find him even closer than she’d thought he was. Her eyes are about level with his chest. The same chest that looks to be fair bursting out of that thin, thin tank top. Good Lord. 

“Um,” she says and has to swallow, recalibrate, give herself some time to put together actual words. “Thank you. For having me. Over, I mean. Thank you for having me over.” She pulls her eyes away from his chest and gives him what she hopes is a winning smile. “It was nicer than I thought it would be.”  

One corner of Kylo’s mouth curls up in a smile. “Nicer than you thought it would be,” he echoes. “High praise.” 

“Shut up, I was being nice.” But Rey can feel the corners of her own lips twitching. Oh no. She’s not actually having a good time, is she? This was not the plan. “Anyway. I really should go.” Rey manages not to tell him she’ll see him later because yes, they are neighbors, but he doesn’t need to start thinking she’ll go out of her way to interact with him. Maybe if it’s convenient, she’ll say hello or something. Maybe. 

She’s just stepped off the porch when a loud “Hey” makes her turn back around. 

Kylo is leaning in the doorway, one hand propped on the doorjamb, the other slightly outstretched towards her as if to pull her back. 

“Yeah?” she asks. 

“I’ll stop playing the music. It’s the least I can do after tonight,” he says, and he’s really smiling now. There’s an apologetic tinge to it that warms her heart. 

So she blows a kiss at him and waggles her fingers in a jaunty wave. “You’re so sweet.” Light-hearted and not entirely sober, Rey practically skips back to her own place, looking forward to a night of uninterrupted rest. 

-

Rey can’t sleep. It’s as quiet as the grave, and she cannot. Fucking. Sleep. She wants to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, but she does. With a frustrated huff, she throws back her covers and stomps into her backyard. 

There he is. Hunched over his telescope, staring up at the stars. The boombox is still there beside him but, true to his word, nothing is playing. 

“Hey,” she snaps. 

Kylo’s head jerks up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he sees her. It’s a parallel to their first real meeting, her in her pajamas with burning eyes, him caught in her stare like a deer in headlights. “Hey,” he says cautiously. “The boombox is off.” 

“I know.” Rey’s scowl deepens. “That’s the problem.” 

Brow furrowed, Kylo opens his mouth. Closes it again without saying anything. Offers her a helpless shrug. 

Rey moves over to the fence separating them and leans against it. “It’s too quiet to sleep. You turned that song into a goddamn lullaby.” She can see him trying to suppress laughter and she would take a whack at him if he was a bit closer to the fence. 

“I can turn it on, if you want,” he says, moving his hand to hover over the dial. 

With a long-suffering sigh, Rey bobs her head in a nod. If he doesn’t, she’s just going to sing it to herself all night anyways. Might as well have the real thing. 

Kylo flicks on the boombox, and the first soft strains of music filter out into the still night air. 

Rey stays where she is against the fence, chin cushioned on her hands. Her eyes go half-lidded as the song swells to the first chorus. Unconsciously, she hums along. 

“Rey,” Kylo says, pulling her out of her sleepy reverie. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Go to bed.”

“Hmmm.” She lifts her head and smiles sleepily at him. “What, you mean without a goodnight kiss?” She snickers at the shocked expression that flits over his face, lazily rolls her hand in a “come hither” gesture. 

Kylo goes thither. He tilts her chin up with one finger, eyes narrowed. “You’re not serious about the kiss thing, right?” 

Rey reaches up to wind her arms around Kylo’s broad shoulders. “I am very serious about the kiss thing,” she says. She looks him dead in the eye and tries to convey seriousness. It probably doesn’t work very well, what with the whole about-to-drop-from-exhaustion thing, but she wants this kiss. 

Then, a creeping tendril of self-doubt. She wants a kiss, yes, but maybe Kylo doesn’t. It’s a little presumptuous of her to demand one. “I mean,” she draws back, suddenly embarrassed, “I can go to sleep without one, I don’t really  _ need  _ one, it’s just, like, I thought it might be nice, your lips look soft, and you’re cute and all, but you don’t owe me anything, so-” She snaps her mouth shut because she’s babbling. Nervous talking is an awful habit. 

Kylo’s eyes glitter with amusement. He’s still holding her chin. “I’ll kiss you,” he says, “and then I’ll let you go to sleep. But I want to revisit the ‘you’re cute’ thing later.” 

Rey flushes, but she doesn’t have time to get too embarrassed before he leans down and gently presses his lips to hers. She was right; they  _ are  _ soft. She sags against the fence, half her body pressed against the wood, the other half against his chest. It’s a short kiss, shorter than she’d like, but she breaks into a yawn as soon as Kylo pulls away. 

“Bed,” Kylo says, placing his hands on her shoulders and spinning her around. “Go.” 

“Okay, okay. Going.” Rey trudges back across the yard, pausing in her doorway to catch one last glimpse of Kylo. He’s standing back at his telescope, but his eyes are fixed on her instead of the stars. With a smile, she slips back into the house and climbs into bed. Steven Tyler’s crooning voice swirls in her wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts used in this chapter:   
> “I promise, pizza and beer will make everything better.”  
> “Is that a cape?”  
> “How can you watch that garbage?”  
> “Don’t.”  
> “I’ve only got twenty bucks.”  
> “On the count of three.”  
> “You’re a liar.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts used in first chapter: 
> 
> “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?”  
> “Are you kidding me? It’s three in the morning.”  
> “So, funny story…”  
> “I can’t talk to you until I’ve had some coffee.”  
> “Well, that could have gone better.”


End file.
